


a new discovery

by doctorkaitlyn



Series: tumblr fics & ficlets, part ii. [54]
Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Crossdressing, Drinking, Established Relationship, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Shyan Scavenger Hunt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-24
Updated: 2018-08-24
Packaged: 2019-07-01 17:41:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15778929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctorkaitlyn/pseuds/doctorkaitlyn
Summary: “So,” Shane says, dropping down ungracefully onto the couch across from them and swinging his legs up onto the small table between them. “What do you think of my new kicks?”“S’that Shane?” Zack mumbles before Ryan can scramble to answer. Squinting his eyes, he clumsily rolls over onto his other side, so that he’s facing Shane. Immediately, his eyes go wide, and his cheeks go an even deeper shade of red as he says, far too loud and far too shameless for the fact that they’re still technically on company time, “Holyfuck.”(or, in which Shane wears go-go dancer boots for a video, and Ryan and Zack discover something new about themselves.)





	a new discovery

**Author's Note:**

> so I watched [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i5jABvdn8Vo) video the other day, and then there was the new video of Shane in heels, and all of that somehow made me want to write more Ryan/Shane/Zack, which somehow led me to this. No, I don't understand the thought process either but ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 
> 
> written for the August edition of the [Shyan Scavenger Hunt](https://shyanscavengerhunt.tumblr.com/), for the prompt "go-go dancer."

“I think I’m gonna throw up.” 

“You’re not going to throw up,” Ryan says as he runs his left hand through Zack’s hair and taps away at his laptop, which is resting precariously in the bit of space between his hip and the edge of the couch, with his right. Truthfully, he’s not really sure how much confidence he has in his own words; Zack is almost _ludicrously_ drunk, considering that it’s four o’clock on a Tuesday. When he’d walked into the room and made a beeline towards Ryan, he’d literally been weaving back and forth, nearly tripping over his own feet for the few seconds it took him to reach the couch and flop down with his head squarely in Ryan’s lap. He’s been alternating between laughing loudly, mumbling nonsense and complaining ever since. 

Ryan doesn’t exactly feel bad for him - despite Zack’s insistence that Justin dragged him into doing the video, he knows that Zack would have done it anyways - but he also doesn’t want to get thrown up on, so he keeps smoothing his hand through Zack’s disheveled hair and asks, “Do you want me to get you some water?” 

Zack shakes his head and presses his face against Ryan’s stomach, mutters something along the lines of _don’t wanna get up_. Ryan rolls his eyes and glances around the area, hoping to find someone he knows well enough to feel comfortable flagging down to grab a drink for his intoxicated idiot of a boyfriend. Everyone seems to be thoroughly immersed in their work, but on the other side of the pod, too far away to yell at, he can see Shane striding over. Immediately, Ryan notices that something is different; Shane seems to be taking his time walking, even though he isn’t talking with anyone, and for some damn reason, he seems even taller than usual. 

He discovers what that reason is when Shane walks around a cluster of desks and into the couch area. 

Shane is wearing lime green boots that reach almost all the way to his knees, made of some kind of shiny material that reflects back the harsh lights overhead. The boots have a platform that’s several inches high and, thankfully, looks fairly sturdy - the thought of Shane teetering around the office in stilettos fills Ryan with panic.

The sight of the boots, on the other hand, fills him with something decidedly different. 

Which is, frankly, ridiculous, because the boots _look_ ridiculous; Shane is wearing khaki chinos today, and not only do the two colors not exactly pair well, but he has the pants tucked into the boots. The fabric is bunched around the top of the boots, spilling out over the edges, and when contrasted with the black and white hoodie he’s wearing, the boots look even _more_ ridiculous. 

And yet, despite the gaudy color and the absurdity of the outfit as a whole, Ryan’s mind immediately turns towards how the color would look directly against Shane’s pale skin, no chinos to be found. 

“So,” Shane says, dropping down ungracefully onto the couch across from them and swinging his legs up onto the small table between them. “What do you think of my new kicks?”

“S’that Shane?” Zack mumbles before Ryan can scramble to answer. Squinting his eyes, he clumsily rolls over onto his other side, so that he’s facing Shane. Immediately, his eyes go wide, and he props himself up on one elbow, as if lifting himself up a few inches will give him a better look. His cheeks go an even deeper shade of red as he says, far too loud and far too shameless for the fact that they’re still technically on company time, “Holy _fuck_.” 

With a hint of a grin, Shane knocks the boots against each other. “You like ‘em?” 

Zack nods rapidly, opens his mouth as if to say something further, and then drops back down into Ryan’s lap with another pathetic groan. “Room’s spinning too fast.” He closes his eyes again, and Ryan drops his hand back into his hair. 

“What’s wrong?” Shane asks, his grin melting into a frown as Zack groans again, a little theatrically, Ryan thinks. 

“Drunken taste test,” Ryan explains, trying to lift his eyes away from the boots. It’s all the detail Shane needs, and his smile comes back as he shakes his head.

“Some people never learn,” he says fondly. For a moment, the tone of his voice and the soft curve of his mouth is enough to distract Ryan away from the boots, to make his chest feel a little warmer and tighter, but when Shane knocks his toes against each other with a _clack_ , all thoughts of softness and fondness disappear from Ryan’s head. “Do _you_ like them?” 

“They’re...” Ryan’s voice sounds a little more strangled than he’d like, so he pretends to cough in order to give himself a few seconds to get himself back under control. “They’re definitely something. I didn’t know they made those in your size.” 

“Me neither! I don’t know where Sara found them.” 

“They’re for a video?” Ryan’s pretty sure that his mind should have gone there first, given the other things he’s seen Shane wear in the past for videos (the cheerleading outfit comes to mind immediately, and Ryan absolutely does _not_ start to think about whether lime green would clash too harshly with yellow). 

“Yeah, they’re doing a sketch about Vegas. Something about what happens there stays there, that kinda thing. I get to be a go-go dancer in the background.” 

“Oh _God_ ,” Zack mumbles into the fabric of Ryan’s shirt, and Ryan is inclined to agree with him. 

“Do go-go dancers usually wear chinos?” he asks, hoping to God that injecting some levity into the room will make it easier to not think about the effect this is all having on his dick. “Or is that just your particular niche?” 

“Oh, I’m just breaking these babies in today,” Shane answers. “Sara’s supposed to find a dress for me for tomorrow.” 

Even buried as it is against Ryan’s stomach, Ryan can tell that the groan that leaves Zack’s mouth has little to do with his supposedly churning stomach and more to do with Shane’s words. 

“Jesus, Zack, you sound like you’re dying,” Shane says, sliding his legs off the table and getting to his feet. His boots clack against the concrete floor as he comes around the table. The extra inches that the boots give him mean that he has to bend almost in half in order to drop his hand to Zack’s hair, where it ends up half-splayed atop of Ryan’s. “Maybe you should call it a day.” 

Zack cracks one eye open, presses his head up into their hands, and groans again.

“Yeah, maybe I should get him home,” Ryan says, answering on his behalf. Moving Zack while he’s in this state might _actually_ make him throw up, but Ryan’s pretty sure that if they don’t leave soon, they’re going to get hit with some kind of HR violation, because one glance is enough to tell that Zack is very clearly hard in his jeans. Glancing back up at Shane, who is looming over him, he asks, “Wanna come over whenever you’re done? Could use some help taking care of this idiot.” 

“Shut up,” Zack mutters, reaching up and pinching Ryan’s hip surprisingly hard. 

“Sure.” Shane cranes over further, and Ryan tilts his head up to meet him in a quick kiss. “I’ll bring a bucket.” 

“Shut _up_ ,” Zack says again, and this time, he sounds so pathetic that Ryan _actually_ feels sorry for him. Shane shakes his head and slides his palm from Zack’s hair to rest against his stubbled cheek for a moment before he straightens back up. 

“God, these are hard on the back,” he mutters, rubbing at the base of his spine. “I’ll see you two later.” With that, he heads back off, clunking footsteps audible even after he’s around the corner. Once the sound has faded away, Ryan finds himself able to concentrate again, and he shuts his laptop and nudges at Zack’s head. 

“C’mon, get up. Let’s get you out of here.” 

Amazingly, Zack doesn’t complain about having to move. Instead, he sits up slowly and swings his legs off the couch so that his feet are resting on the ground. However, before he actually gets to his feet, he drops his chin to Ryan’s shoulder, hard enough for Ryan to momentarily hiss in pain, and leans in to whisper in his ear. 

Or, at least, he tries to whisper. Really, it’s the same level as his normal speaking voice. 

“You think that he’d wear those boots for us at home? With the dress? If we asked?” 

Ryan bites down on his own bottom lip and nearly chokes on his own groan. He has no idea what the dress Shane will be wearing with the boots (the goddamn ridiculous, gaudy, _amazing_ boots) will look like, but just the thought of all those inches of bare leg between the top of the boots and the hem of the dress, the thought of _Shane’s_ legs, stupidly long and surprisingly muscled, is enough to make his dick twitch with interest. 

“God,” he says, grabbing his laptop with one hand and hauling Zack up with the other, determined to get out of the building before someone notices that the both of them are hard or before Zack throws up, “I really fucking hope so.”

**Author's Note:**

> as always, I can be found on [tumblr.](http://banshee-cheekbones.tumblr.com/) :)


End file.
